


Mirror, Mirror

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Dumbledore being a matchmaker, M/M, Magical Shenanigans, Mirror Mirror On The Wall, flirting without really meaning to, possibly getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape and Sherlock Holmes are both in possession of a magic mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PurpleFluffyCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/gifts).



> Written as a Christmas present for the lovely purplefluffycat who gave the prompt “who is the cleverest of them all?” Originally posted to Livejournal in 2010.

The mirror lay on the floor, unwrapped, for several days. John was resolutely refusing to have anything to do with it, aside from glance at the postmark, which merely told him it had been delivered from somewhere in Scotland.

Sherlock had taken one look at it, scowled, and then left it where it was. This was probably what was driving John mad the most, if he were honest with himself. But he would not crumble, he would not.

“I'm going out,” he announced to the room. Sherlock didn't even bother looking up. “I'm going to see Sarah.” Sherlock did look up then, to glare, once, before returning to whatever had caught his interest in the day's newspaper. “Right, then. Off, I'm going. Away.”

He stood in the middle of the room and then sighed, as loudly as he knew how, and trudged down the stairs, grabbing his coat, scarf and hat and setting off into the snow to Sarah's.

The minute he was gone Sherlock jumped up, muttered “finally” under his breath, and ripped the packaging off the mirror, not caring that he was strewing paper, string and cardboard all over the flat. It would get cleaned up by somebody, eventually.

“So,” he said to the mirror, “we meet at last.”

* * * * * *

Severus Snape glared in Dumbledore's direction. “I fail to see the purpose in this.”

“What was it you told me, Severus?” Dumbledore asked, steepling his fingers on the desk before him. “Competence and intelligence is far sexier than looks alone?”

Shape’s glare intensified. “I was _drunk._ As you well know. Butterbeer laced with firewhiskey? Honestly, Headmaster, sometimes it's like you've never grown up.”

“And sometimes, my dear boy, it's as if you were never a child.”

Snape had nothing to say to that, so he continued to glare, despite all previous evidence to the fact that it had zero effect on his old friend.

“Perhaps you would be so good as to continue, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

Snape sighed and started to unpack the mirror, muttering curses under his breath as he did so. Dumbledore merely sat back in his seat and watched.

“Ah,” the mirror said once it had been released from its magical confines, “we meet at last”.

* * * * *

Confident that Sarah would hold John's attention for the rest of the evening, Sherlock moved the mirror and leaned it against the back of the sofa and repositioned his chair so that he could easily sit and stare at the mirror at the same time. He had been told that eye contact with his image in the mirror was especially important, and he wanted to be comfortable.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “how do we proceed?”

The mirror remained silent. Sherlock waited. A slip of paper from amongst all the packaging he had discarded floated over to him. He took it and began to read. He rolled his eyes and tossed it to the floor, before then taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the impossible.

“Mirror, who is the cleverest of them all?”

There was a blinding flash of light and when Sherlock's eyes had suitably adjusted he found himself looking at the mirror again. But instead of a clear surface reflecting his own intrigued expression, instead it was far more cloudy, and there were two pricks of light that looked like eyes.

“Are you sure you wish to know the answer?” the mirror asked. Sherlock leaned forward, trying to work out where exactly the voice was coming from, but the cloudiness of the mirror's surface wasn't helping.

“Of course. I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't.”

“Very well,” the mirror replied.

And then the surface began to clear.

* * * * *

“This is all superstitious nonsense,” Snape said, though there was no longer any bite to his words. In fact, he was becoming increasingly curious about what he might see.

He turned back to Dumbledore for one last time and then, when Dumbledore's eyes did that annoying twinkling thing that Snape refused to be cowed by, he faced the mirror again.

“Mirror, who is the cleverest of them all?”

The mirror immediately woke up and grinned, much to Snape's annoyance.

“Are you sure you wish to know the answer?” the mirror asked.

“Of course,” Snape snapped. “I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't.”

“Very well,” the mirror replied.

And then the surface began to clear. At first it was merely a reflection of the room they were standing in, with Snape at the centre. But then it turned into something else, something far homelier and less filled with magical artefacts. And there was a man, sitting in a chair staring at them. He was wearing a large coat and had, in Snape's opinion, quite ridiculous hair.

“ _That's_ the cleverest of them all?” Snape and Sherlock asked simultaneously.

“Indeed,” the mirror replied. “Both logical, both unconcerned with social niceties, both stubborn, both enamoured of their own intelligence...”

“Albus,” Snape hissed, interrupting the mirror, “this is...”

“Where are you?” Sherlock asked, in turn interrupting Snape and the mirror.

“Hogwarts,” Dumbledore replied. He stood up and moved over to the mirror so that Sherlock could see him more fully. “School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Sherlock nodded. “I see. That certainly explains some things.”

Snape pursed his lips but remained stubbornly silent in an attempt to clamp down on his own curiosity.

“My dear boy, why don't you come over for tea?”

“Come over?” Sherlock and Snape asked.

“Just step through the mirror,” Dumbledore told Sherlock.

“Very well,” Sherlock replied. Then he did just that.

* * * * *

Sherlock took a sip of his tea, his eyes continually darting around Dumbledore's office. The place was a cornucopia of the most interesting artefacts Sherlock had ever seen. The man himself was just as intriguing, though he had left in pursuit of some sherbet lemons ten minutes ago, leaving Sherlock alone with the other man, Severus Snape.

Severus Snape who was, at this moment, sipping at his own tea whilst glaring daggers at Sherlock.

“I fail to see how solving a few Muggle murders makes you the cleverest of them all,” Snape said. “I have worked undercover and fooled the most evil mind the world has ever known for years.”

“Perhaps,” the mirror said, from its perch on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk, “you could show each other exactly what you’re made of?”

There was a pregnant pause as the two men regarded each other with renewed interest.

“Yes,” they finally said in tandem, “perhaps we can.”


End file.
